


Ghost Stories

by Hours_Gone_By



Series: Prowl x Jazz Hallowe'en Challenge 2019 [2]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers – All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe – Supernatural, Community: prowlxjazz, Dating, Developing Relationship, Family, Ghost Stories, Holding Hands, Horror, Kissing, M/M, Moving, Shared Trauma, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 09:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21033857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hours_Gone_By/pseuds/Hours_Gone_By
Summary: Prowl and Jazz have an unusual sort-of-third date, hanging out on Prowl's back terrace listening to Bluestreak's friends tell ghost stories – and adding a couple of their own.Takes place afterReplay.





	Ghost Stories

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [The Prowl x Jazz Community](https://prowlxjazz.dreamwidth.org)'s [Halloween Bingo 2019](https://prowlxjazz.dreamwidth.org/1745822.html#comments) on [Dreamwidth](https://prowlxjazz.dreamwidth.org) and used for the [What If? AU Challenge's](https://whatif-au.dreamwidth.org) October 2019 [Supernatural AU challenge](https://whatif-au.dreamwidth.org/tag/challenge31), and the [Spooktober Challenge (Prompt: Ghost story).](https://spooktoberchallenge.dreamwidth.org/732.html)

Prowl had met Jazz when the mech moved into the house across the street from Prowl's family home. Jazz, who was setting the house up for himself and his mentor to live in, had used Prowl's home comm suite and asked Prowl out for a drink as thanks. Those plans had been delayed when they had discovered that Jazz's new home was haunted. The haunting was over, having ceased when the body of a previous inhabitant had been removed from its hiding place in the house. Prowl and Jazz had had their date a few cycles later, and it had gone very, very well. Jazz was flirtatious but respectful, and he listened. Prowl, whose last relationship had turned out to be short on that last, had been happy to learn that early on.

They'd gotten only slightly more ambitious with their second date, going out to dinner and an open-air performance – no ghosts or murders, thankfully - in a municipal park. Mid-way through the second act, Prowl had made an overture, taking Jazz's hand in his, and that seemed to have been well-received. They had sat through the rest of the performance like that and kept holding hands as they walked to the transformation lane. Jazz had rougher patches on his fingers that Prowl thought must have developed to protect them when he played stringed instruments.

Prowl wasn't sure who should see whom home, given that they lived across the street from each other, but since he had wound up in the lead, he supposed they were going to his house? Although…he did have a curious younger sibling who hadn't quite grasped boundaries yet. It had been their second date, it had gone well, Prowl wanted to kiss Jazz goodnight, and he didn't want to be interrupted.

Prowl was to begin classes at the Academy of Cybertronian Law Enforcement at Praxus at the end of the summer. He'd told Jazz this, but Jazz seemed content with the idea of a summer romance if that's what this developed into. At the end of the summer, they could see if they wanted to try for a long-distance relationship or part as friends.

'_I'll see you home,' _Prowl offered as they turned onto their street.

'_I'd like that, thanks, Prowl._'

Prowl retook Jazz's hand as they walked up the driveway to Jazz's front door. It was still somewhat light out, so the motion sensor didn't activate the exterior lights as they approached, but the air was beginning to cool.

"I enjoyed this evening, Jazz," Prowl said, taking Jazz's other hand in his as well. "I'd like to see more of you."

"Yeah?" Jazz swayed a little closer. "Good thing I live across the road from you, then. You can come to see me anytime you want. I mean that."

"I'll take you up on that," Prowl said. He scanned Jazz's features, open interest there, and thought he was reading things correctly. Prowl leaned in, shutting his optics off, and Jazz closed the gap between them, kissing him gently.

"Been hoping you'd do that," Jazz murmured after, cupping the back of Prowl's neck in his hand. They'd barely separated.

"Have you?"

"Oh, yeah. C'mere."

It was a few kliks before Prowl reluctantly parted from Jazz. Prowl wanted to stay later, but his Creator was working the next day, and Prowl had agreed to look after Bluestreak since it wasn't a school day.

Bluestreak had unsuccessfully tried to get out of the last two deca-cycles of school since they'd moved here near the end of the term, but Chase had been firm. Still, Bluestreak seemed to have already made a friend, a classmate named Smokescreen, and that had taken an edge off the adolescent's anxiety. (Lately, that anxiety tended to manifest as sulking, and Prowl was just as glad for anything that prevented it.) But there were still some things about the move that were upsetting Bluestreak, such as Prowl's leaving at the end of summer to go back and attend the Academy in Praxus. Prowl thought he understood but hoped that Bluestreak would have settled some by the time it came for Prowl to leave. The move had put distance between Bluestreak and Chase and Prowl hoped to see that ended by the time he left.

When he got home, Prowl stopped briefly to talk to his creator, then went upstairs to check the messages on the comm terminal in his own room. He hadn't even set foot in his door before he got ambushed by his younger sibling.

"Are you going to see Jazz again?" Bluestreak wanted to know.

"I am, yes." They hadn't set another date yet, but Prowl was very sure he was going to see more of Jazz – a lot more. He was looking forward to it.

Bluestreak folded his arms and wouldn't quite look at Prowl. "Are you going to be over there all the time now?"

"Not all the time, no." Prowl wondered for a nano-klik why his sibling seemed to be upset as much as curious, then he realized. Prowl put his hands on Bluestreak's shoulders. "Bluestreak. I'm going to spend lots of time with you, too. We have all day tomorrow, for instance."

Bluestreak's gaze shifted to meet Prowl's. "But…you're leaving at the end of the summer. I won't see you again for ages."

"Not in person, no," Prowl agreed. "But I'll call regularly, and I'll come back during the holidays when I can."

"Yeah, I guess. I just – I just want things to stop _changing_!" Bluestreak burst out. "Creator lost his job, and then we moved, and now I don't see my friends anymore, and now you're going to be gone with Jazz all the time, and I won't see you, either!"

Prowl hugged his sibling. "It's hard. I know. Don't worry, little spark, I'll spend lots of time with you, I promise. Tomorrow we can sit down and talk about things we can do together before I leave, alright?"

"Yeah, alright," Bluestreak mumbled into Prowl's shoulder. He sighed and added, "I guess – I guess it might be alright if Jazz came along for some of them. One or two. He seems nicer than the last guy."

Bluestreak had met Jazz only once, but Prowl agreed with the sentiment, even if his previous court-mate's true colours hadn't become apparent until later on.

"Yes, he certainly does."

Once Bluestreak was mollified and had gone back to whatever he was doing, Prowl finally got around to checking his messages. One of them was from said 'last guy.'

Prowl spent a long klik wondering if he should even read it. Finally, he deleted it and shut down the console for the night with a clear conscience.

* * *

Bluestreak asked the next day, after taking a call, if his friend Smokescreen and Smokescreen's friend Trailbreaker could come to stay the night. Prowl didn't point out that Bluestreak had _just _been fussing about Prowl not spending time with him. It was a relief to know his sibling was making friends here, meaning he would hopefully be less miserable once Prowl left.

"You should invite Jazz too," Bluestreak offered, shrugging one shoulder. "'Cause, y'know."

Which Prowl translated as 'because I put up a fuss last night, but now I'm putting off our time together so have Jazz over as a kind of apology that I'm not mature enough to actually give you right now.' But he took Bluestreak up on it anyway.

"I know hanging out with juveniles probably isn't the sort of thing you had in mind," Prowl said apologetically when he asked Jazz over for that evening. Jazz squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Bit of an odd third date, yeah, but it's no problem, Prowler. 'Sides, Bluestreak seems like a nice kid, and he's important to you. I'll come on over, and we'll hang out."

"Thank you," Prowl said, adding, "they are mature enough they don't need us hovering over them, just within audial range and checking in occasionally."

"There, see?" Jazz said, smiling and giving Prowl a too-quick kiss. "Best of both worlds."

Now, the five of them were out back on Prowl's family's terrace, the three adolescents sprawled on the ground, and the adults sitting close together, off to the side. Prowl was busy talking softly with Jazz and wasn't quite following the flow of the adolescents' conversation, so he was surprised when Bluestreak sent him a private comm.

'_Prowl? They're starting to tell ghost stories. Is that okay?_'

'_Let me check with Jazz,_' Prowl sent back, marking his glyphs with approval for Bluestreak's sensitivity. Bluestreak had been told what happened at Jazz's house, in broad strokes at least, and had apparently grasped that this might not be an appropriate topic. Prowl switched frequencies to contact Jazz. '_Bluestreak's friends are telling ghost stories. Do you want to go inside?_'

Jazz hesitated for a couple of nano-kliks, clearly thinking things over. Finally, he sent back, '_no, it's okay. I'm okay with staying out here unless you want to go in._'

'_It isn't comfortable,_' Prowl admitted, _'but I don't want to stay uncomfortable with the topic forever. I'll try, and we can always go inside later if we want to._' To Bluestreak, he sent, '_go ahead_.'

'_Thanks, Prowl._'

Trailbreaker, bigger than Bluestreak and Smokescreen even without an adult superstructure, started on a new ghost story. Prowl tried not to listen, but he got drawn into it; so did Jazz, and their conversation fell away.

"…and the mech told himself it was just the wind, and settled down to recharge," Trailbreaker was saying. "He was almost in recharge, and then he heard it again: the sound of someone keening as if their spark were disrupted, somewhere in the house. It was louder this time, closer. He got up again and looked out into the hallway, both directions, but he didn't see or hear anything. Not a keen, not a glow of optics in the distance. He told himself it was a windy night in an unfamiliar house, and so, of course, he heard strange things, and he tried to go to sleep again. Again, he was almost in recharge when he heard the wailing, even closer this time. He jumped up and ran to the door, looking both ways and even running to either end of the hall to check the ramp-wells leading downstairs. Nothing.

"But, as he turned to go back to his room, he heard, right behind him where no one could be, a footstep. Terrified, he ran back to the room and locked the door. From outside the room, there was silence and then…BAM!" Trailbreaker slammed his hand down on the metal tiles of the terrace, and the other mecha jumped. "Something hit the door. The mech froze, terrified, and again…BAM! And again! Something, something he couldn't see, was in the hallway, and it wanted in. It wouldn't stop. The mech was so afraid he thought his spark might stop spinning, and he shouted out, 'in the name of Primus, what do you want?'

"There was no answer. The knocking stopped. He didn't hear the keen again, and he stayed awake and on guard the entire night. The nano-klik he realized dawn had come, he unlocked the door and ran from the house. He never went back and for all anyone knows, whatever it was, or whoever it had been, is there to this day."

Prowl and Jazz exchanged a look but didn't say anything. Smokescreen went next.

"This happens on a stretch of the Pancontinental Expressway, late at night," Smokescreen began. "It's a long, lonely stretch of the road, one of those places along the Expressway where there are no towns for hics. That's what everyone thinks, anyway. But sometimes, when the moons are in just the right orbits, and a mech starts to get tired, they see a town. A brightly lit town where no town is supposed to be. It looks welcoming, with plenty of signs for oil houses and hotels and even a casino. It should make a mech want to stop, but there's something not quite right about it. If a mech drives past it and checks their rearview, they see nothing but dark, empty, highway behind them. If a mech goes in, they can fuel up, rest, gamble a little bit, but they'll find that something just isn't quite right about the residents. They're polite but _too_ polite, their expressions a little _too _fixed, a little _too _identical. They'll do anything to try and convince you to stay, the mecha who have made it out say, but you shouldn't listen. Once dawn comes the town disappears for another night, and when it reappears, everything is there, as it was…except you."

Bluestreak leaned in a little bit. "What happens to the mecha who stay?"

Smokescreen shrugged and spread his hands. "No one knows. One mech left his friend there and tried to go back for him a second night. He radioed back that he couldn't find him, but then dawn came, and neither mech was ever seen again. The last transmission was all anyone ever knew of their fates."

'_Okay,_' Jazz said over comms. '_That's a new one for me, and I've heard a lot of traveller's tales. Wonder where the kid heard it?_'

'_I don't know, but I think I prefer it over the haunted house story._'

'_Yeah, me too._'

"Your turn, Bluestreak," Trailbreaker said.

Bluestreak shrugged one shoulder, glancing over at Prowl. It was clear that Crosstalk's story was the one on his mind, but what he said was, "I don't have one right now."

"C'mon, you have to have at least one ghost story," Trailbreaker persisted. "Everyone does."

"Well…"

"I've got one," Jazz interrupted, slipping smoothly into the conversation to take the pressure off Bluestreak. "If you don't mind me jumping in."

They did not. Jazz waited until he had the attention of the four other mecha present – well, three, Prowl was already paying quite a bit of attention to Jazz – and then began.

"This all happened a long time ago," Jazz told them, "when Cybertron was still ruled by a feudal system. Two families had decided to unite their Houses – what we call Towers now – into one through marriage and it was just plain good luck that the two mecha chosen to _conjunx_ each other were already in love. They'd been looking forward to marrying each other for nearly a vorn, and it was almost there. The second mech was on his way to his beloved's estate for the big day when a massive storm came up as they were travelling across the Manganese Mountain range. The word came down at the second mech's transport had crashed, and everyone had been lost. The first mech was inconsolable, and the grief-stricken Houses started to get themselves ready for funeral rites instead.

"Then the transport showed up! It seemed like the news of its accident and the deaths of the passengers had been a terrible error. Well, everything was set for the _ritus, _and after the scare, both mecha wanted to go ahead and _conjunx _each other as soon as possible. They went ahead with the rite and declared their union in front of all their guests. The party afterwards was long, and it was _awesome, _something to be talked about for a long time. Finally, everyone went to bed 'cause nobody can party forever, and the two newlyweds dropped offline in each other's arms.

"The only thing was, the first mech woke up alone. He was a little sad because he'd been looking forward to waking up with his _conjunx_ as well as going to bed with them, and a bit annoyed because his spouse hadn't said anything or left a note. Nothing. He looked around and couldn't find them, and finally went downstairs to see if they were there. He didn't find his new spouse, but he did find two Enforcers waiting to speak to him. They tried to tell him that his lover's body had been found, but he didn't believe them. Finally, since it was the only way he could be convinced, they took him down to the morgue and showed him the body. It was his beloved, alright. He'd know them anywhere. He demanded to know when, where, and how this had happened, they'd only been apart for less than a joor.

"'It happened last night," one of the Enforcers said. 'The transport went off a cliff in the Manganese Mountains during a freak storm. We only recovered the bodies this morning, about a joor ago.'"

"That one's rather – sweet," Prowl said thoughtfully. "The idea that they wanted to be together so much that one of them wouldn't let death stop them from undergoing the _conjunx ritus._"

"Yeah?" Jazz looked at Prowl like he wished they didn't have an audience – especially an adolescent one.

"Do you have a story, Prowl?" Bluestreak interrupted. "I mean, it's okay if you don't because I didn't."

"I have a story a mech who worked patrols on the outskirts of Praxus told me once," Prowl said thoughtfully. "He said he and his partner used to patrol the old highway out there. It was a quiet stretch of road, and they seldom saw anyone. They could do the patrol in their recharge, almost. Then, one night, as they were patrolling, they saw headlights behind them, but their sensors didn't register anything. The first time they saw the lights they thought it was just a sensor ghost or a kind of reflection and kept going. The second time, they thought it might be someone with stealth mods and slowed down just to see if the mech behind them would catch up or even pass them. However, the headlights kept the same amount of distance from the Enforcers no matter what speed they went. The third night the mecha broke protocol and split up, hoping to catch the mech between them. The mech in front saw headlights, and the mech in front saw taillights, but they couldn't close the distance no matter what combination of speeds they went. Finally, when he approached an intersection, the lead mech slammed on his brakes and transformed, determined to catch whoever this was. Just as his door panels locked in place on his root mode, the headlights disappeared, and an out-of-control transport roared through the intersection. If he'd crossed the intersection, he would have been offlined!

"After that, they never saw the headlights again."

"Helpful or not, phantom headlights chasing me would still be creepy," Smokescreen said, and Trailbreaker and Bluestreak agreed with him.

Prowl smiled. "Yes, I imagine they would."

Shortly after, the three adolescents decided they needed snacks and disappeared inside, leaving the adults on the terrace.

"Well, that wasn't what I expected for the evening," Jazz commented after Bluestreak and his friends had headed off.

"Are you feeling alright about it?" Prowl asked. He made no move to leave the terrace; he was comfortable and could easily hear Bluestreak if his sibling needed anything.

"Yeah, I guess. I just kinda wonder how many of those stories have a bit of truth to them, like my house did." He added a little softly, "like Crosstalk."

"I don't know. But I really did like your story about the lovers, even if it was sad in the end."

"You think that's sad?" Jazz asked. "Least they got to say goodbye."

"True. Maybe melancholy would be a better word. I wasn't expecting a love story, though."

Jazz shrugged. "I was in the mood to tell one. Too soon for that kind of thing?"

"I don't know," Prowl said thoughtfully. "When I moved here, I would have thought dating someone would be too soon, but here we are."

Jazz nodded understandingly. "Bad breakup, or…?"

"Not that bad, I don't think? I _was_ seeing someone before we moved here," Prowl said. "I thought – well. He wasn't as supportive as I'd hoped he would be when Creator lost his job. I broke things off with him even before I learned we had to move. He's messaged me a few times, mostly complaining I wasn't fair to him."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Prowler," Jazz said sincerely, taking Prowl's hand. "You deserve better."

"Yes." Prowl smiled at his date. "I'm hoping I've found it."

"I'll do my best," Jazz promised and kissed him.


End file.
